


Hope

by dralexreid



Series: Dr Piper Bishop [74]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Kidnapping, Rape, platonic fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:49:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29689755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dralexreid/pseuds/dralexreid
Relationships: Dr Spencer Reid/Dr Piper Bishop, Penelope Garcia/Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Dr Piper Bishop [74]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1972852
Comments: 5
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

To the rest of the world, Penelope Garcia was a fountain of everlasting joy, always with a funny quip to say, the odd pop culture reference that makes their day. But there were days where she was completely exhausted with the world. The inhumane things she was forced to see on her screen tested her capacity to hope each and every day. But she refused to let that contain her. She had to be more than the funny technical analyst shielded by the four walls of her lair. Penelope gripped her clutch bag as she made her way into the community hall, like every Monday night for the past 4 years. She didn’t feel nervous as much anymore, at least not until it was her turn to speak about her own trauma.

“Here goes. And, uh, this is the part I always leave out,” Penelope confessed. “I had missed my curfew the second time that week, and when I got home, it was crazy late. It was like 3:00 in the morning, and my parents weren't home, and the phone rang, and my life stopped.” She felt her voice crack as she finished.

Taking a deep breath, she forged on. “My parents were killed by a drunk driver when they were out looking for me. And if they hadn't been out looking for me, then...” Penelope raised her eyes to the ceiling, trying to quell her tears.

“We all have wounds that we want to heal. That's why we come here every week, right?” Penelope asked the group. “And I have to believe that as we keep coming here and talking and revealing, that eventually, in time, even the deepest wounds we carry will begin to heal.” She glanced around the group, then to the mother seated in front of her. Monica Kingston was slightly hunched over, leaning on an elbow, her other hand clasping a cup of black tea. Her eyes had gone slightly glassy, and Penelope couldn’t help herself. “Monica, is there something you want to say?” She always felt like a schoolteacher when she asked someone that question.

“Huh?” Monica asked gently, her droopy eyes focusing on the question. “Um... Sorry. But I believe that time...” She took a pause to consider her words carefully. “Wears you down,” she confessed. “A few weeks ago... I walked by the bakery that we used to go to... And I saw this... Little girl with blond pigtails.” Monica broke down after that, starting to cry as her face screwed up at the painful reminder of her little girl. “I’m sorry,” she apologised.

“Don’t be sorry,” Penelope pleaded. “It’s totally okay.” A hand clutched at Monica’s shoulder, squeezing softly in comfort.

“That’s why we’re all here,” the man comforted her, and Monica nodded slowly.

“I'm going to wrap it up. Okay?” Penelope decided. “Thank you all for coming. I look forward to seeing you next week.” Penelope, like the others, rose from her seat only to see Monica practically run out of the hall after setting her half-finished cup of tea down and she followed, brushing off the two women who moved to converse with her. “Hey, Mon!” Penelope called out as the door closed behind her. “What’s the rush? I thought you wanted to talk to me.” Monica stopped, turning to reveal her tired face.

“It’s all right, it’s just, uh, it’s been a long week,” she tried.

“Yeah, it’s only Monday. What’s going on?” Penelope asked, wearing her down.

“Yesterday was the anniversary of Hope’s disappearance,” Monica admitted quietly to Penelope, expecting the usual reaction of shock and horror that she’d forgotten.

“Oh God, that’s ri—I’m so sorry, I for—why didn’t you say something?” Penelope asked quietly before shaking herself for asking that kind of question. She was supposed to know. This was her therapy group. “Okay, I totally understand. Do you want to grab a late dinner and talk?”

“No, I’m good,” Monica said. “You go enjoy.” Penelope watched her leave half-heartedly, wanting to follow her desperately.

* * *

“Come on, Derek. You gotta hit better than that!” Piper yelled out from her stance in the middle of the field. She watched Derek adjust his Chicago Cubs hat and readjust his stance.

“Maybe throw me a decent ball to hit with,” he protested.

“You think ATF’s gonna go easy on us next week?” Meredith asked from her position on first base. “I hear they got Sarah Desmond as their pitcher.” Piper gestured with her mitted hand.

“Alright, just throw it to me.” He watched Piper narrow her brown eyes as she stepped back from the stump. Her Giants tee stretched as she winded up before throwing a fast-ball at Derek. A satisfying clink resounded as he hit the ball, catching the mid-fielders by surprise as it sailed above and he sprinted for the next base. Yells resounded all over the field and the thick, white ball fell right into Piper’s hand as she lunged for Derek, practically hitting his leg with the ball and Derek groaned as he fell to the floor.

“Y’all are bullying me, that’s what this is,” he grumbled from the ground, spitting out the brown dirt. He rolled over, seeing Piper sitting on the ground, grinning as she fixed her Giants hat.

“That’s what you get for just being a batter,” Piper said as she stood up, offering Derek a hand.

“Yeah, right,” Derek scoffed, taking it and lifting himself up. “You think you can get that no-hitter again?”

“Against the ATF?” Yousef asked. “No doubt.” Piper beamed as Yousef clapped her on the shoulder, her smile fading as Derek’s cell rang.

“No, not again,” Piper groaned, tipping her head back.

“Relax, it’s just Penelope,” Derek assured her, answering the phone. His team whooped from behind as he walked away from them chuckling. “What’s up baby girl?”

“ _It’s Monica. God, she was right here and then she was gone and I don’t know what to do and the cops are coming and Derek…”_ Penelope took a pause to breathe. “ _I need you,”_ she pleaded. Derek whirled around on his heel, seeing Jackson make kissy faces from his seat around Joseph’s shoulders.

“Go!” Piper called out, a knowing smile on her lips. “But extra drills tomorrow!”

“You got it!” he yelled before sprinting out to the locker room to grab his clothes and gear while the rest of the baseball team kept running drills for their big game.

* * *

Derek pulled up in front of the community hall that Penelope had sent, getting out as he saw her getting into an argument with the patrol officer. “I understand, ma'am, but again, we can't yet treat this as a missing person case,” he explained, looking down at Penelope. Derek made his way forward, ready to flash his badge.

“Clearly something happened here,” Penelope protested. She was wearing a dark, glittery blue headband, letting her bangs drape over her forehead like blonde curtains. Blue drops hung from her ears, a matching necklace hooked around her neck. Her cardigan was draped over her black dress, patterned hearts knitted into the woolly article. Her dark blue eyeshadow glittered in the parking lot where she stood.

“Officer, I’ll take care of this,” Derek offered, flicking his badge open. He’d left his Cubs cap in the car and zipped up his leather jacket. He let the officer leave and addressed Penelope. “Any word?”

“No. I just— I have this feeling. And that officer wouldn't listen, and I—”

“Penelope,” Derek interrupted, grasping her shoulder warmly to still her. Penelope couldn’t help but feel warmth wash over, abating the pounding fear inside of her. “I believe you,” he insisted. “But I need you to keep your head in the game right now,” Derek said. “You hear me?”

“Right. Okay. Yeah, I’m here.”

“Is there any chance Monica left with someone?” Derek asked, looking inside the car window.

“No. No, not today. Yesterday was the anniversary of her daughter's abduction.”

“How long have you known her?”

“5 years.”

“And her daughter was abducted. Did they catch him?”

“No. The case went cold. The police ran down all kinds of leads. No dice.” Derek straightened up to face Penelope.

“Garcia, you do know the effect anniversaries can have on survivors, right?” he asked carefully.

“Are you insinuating that she might have killed herself?” Penelope said, watching her apparent saviour pull out a glove from his back pocket. “She didn't. I know her. She's a survivor. She wouldn't do that.”

“It looks like she left in a hurry,” Derek said, opening the door. “The keys are still in the ignition.”

“And she left her purse,” Penelope added, trying to be helpful.

“Hello,” Derek murmured softly, pulling out a folded up piece of paper and unfolding it carefully. “It’s a letter signed by someone named Hope?” Derek looked up at Penelope, seeing confusion and shock painted on her features, features that should be smiling and joking around.

“That's her daughter.”


	2. Chapter 2

“So, this letter Monica allegedly received from her daughter contains no indication of female authorship,” Spencer relayed to Hotch as they stood in the bullpen, boxes of takeout littered on Piper’s desk. “It lacks expression of emotional attachment.”

“The unsub wrote it?” Aaron asked between mouthfuls.

“A 15-year-old girl held in captivity for 7 years would be more vocal about what happened to her,” Piper said, watching Hotch eat as she spoke. “The first thing written was ‘Please don’t tell the police’ which is strange on its own, but then it goes on to say, ‘I long for the day we are reunited’. No 15-year-old would write something like that.” Penelope spoke up from the other side of Spencer’s desk immediately.

“I just got a hit on someone who matches Monica's description at a gas station 17 miles outside of Manassas,” she announced quickly, making Hotch, Reid and Bishop move over to surround her for a look at her laptop. A surveillance camera from a gas station flickered to life and they watched solemnly as Monica rushed after a concealed figure.

“Hope’s not with him,” Hotch remarked.

“Could be in the car,” Piper suggested as they watched the mother and abductor enter the gas station.

“She’s looking up toward him, looks like they’re having a conversation,” Spencer murmured, mulling over it like it was a question.

“She’s doing whatever she has to do to get her daughter back,” Piper sighed, a hand resting on the back of her chair as they watched the footage.

“Garcia, can you get any closer?” Aaron asked her, his arms crossed over his chest.

“No. No, I can't get a good look at him,” Penelope said bitterly.

“Look at his body language,” Spencer pointed out using his finger, as though they needed it pointed out. “He's shielding himself from the cameras.”

“He knows where they are and he’s protecting his identity,” Hotch murmured.

“Why isn’t Monica asking for help?” Penelope asked, her voice hitting a higher octave as she spoke softly.

“She doesn’t want to draw attention to herself,” Aaron answered quietly.

“And if he gets caught, she doesn’t find her daughter,” Piper suggested.

“She leaves, but the unsub stays,” Spencer muttered softly, his brows knitting together under his floppy brown hair as he looked up to his map on the other side of the desks.

“I don’t understand,” Penelope asked, her voice reaching a higher octave.

“He’s got complete control,” Aaron said, keeping his eyes on his techie and her screen. “He’s not worried about her contacting the authorities.” Piper, on the other hand, watched Spencer move with precision, shaking his marker as he made his way to the map.

“He must have told her that Hope was alive and that she could see him,” Piper suggested. “I don’t see any other reason why she’s so submissive. Police already hit a dead end with the case, she doesn’t trust them to get the job done anymore.”

“Run the pump receipts against the timeline,” Aaron ordered. “Maybe he used a credit card.” Penelope obliged and Piper narrowed her eyes at Spencer who was using his fingers to map out a route.

“Running pumps 1 to 9 and…nothing,” Penelope sighed. “Who goes to a gas station and doesn’t buy anything?”

“Bishop? Something to add?” Hotch asked, noticing her furrowed gaze.

“Uh, not really,” she murmured, her fingers drumming on the desk softly. “Emily was right, she’s completely bending her will to the unsub. But if he was stalking Hope and Monica at their house, why bring her to a gas station?”

“There are plenty of service stations between the community centre and here, but he drove her clear across town,” Spencer announced, turning around from the board to face them. “This place must mean something to the both of them.”

“This could be where it all started,” Aaron said ominously before noticing JJ, Derek and Anderson bringing in multiple boxes of files and evidence from the Kingston case.

“This is everything Manassas PD has on this guy,” Derek announced as Spencer made his way over, his gaze curious as he lifted one of the lids.

“Emily and Rossi are on their way back from the old house but the owner reported seeing her parked outside just 2 hours ago,” JJ relayed.

“Was the unsub with her?” Aaron asked.

“Yeah, but he didn't get much of a description on the unsub or the truck,” JJ answered. “He did say Monica had been by a lot recently.”

“Apparently, somebody dropped a letter for her a week ago,” Derek reported. “The owner called her to come pick it up, and ever since then she's been parked outside the house.”

“If he's had Hope captive for 7 years, she's completely compliant by now,” Spencer announced, speaking rapidly as they clung to each word. “He might have abducted Monica as a reward for good behaviour.” Piper’s forehead crumpled in thought.

“Or he could be getting off on the fact that he successfully abducted a mother and a daughter,” Derek proposed.

“Whether Hope is alive or dead, Monica still believes she’s alive,” Piper murmured. “And it isn’t the anniversary date of the abduction that triggered him if he sent that letter a week ago.”

“But he didn’t take Monica until the day after the anniversary date,” JJ countered.

“He knew Monica would be vulnerable that day. It was the optimal day to kidnap her,” Derek rebutted.

“Except he waited until the day after to abduct her,” Spencer retorted.

“Because he knew Monica was going to group therapy,” Piper surmised, the gears turning in her head. “He waited 24 hours for convenience.”

“So, he’s patient, intelligent and organised,” Hotch said, perusing one of the files. “Monica's statement the day of Hope's abduction confirmed that she made a purchase at the same gas station hours before Hope went missing.”

“It's not a coincidence that he brought Monica from that particular gas station to her old house,” JJ realised. “He's taking her through all the steps of Hope's abduction. Having both of them could have been his plan all along.”

“So, are we saying he's sexually diverse, attracted to children and adults?” Piper asked, mostly to herself than the others as Emily and David joined them in the bullpen.

“The unsub stalked Monica, so he knew about the spare key under the mat,” Emily announced. “He had complete access.”

“So why wait 7 years to circle back if that's the case?” Rossi asked.

“It isn’t sexual,” Piper muttered, realising all eyes were on her. “Sorry, if he’s taking Monica through his abduction process, it means he’s trying to make her understand. He’s not motivated by pleasure or lust. He wants empathy from the woman whose child he abducted.”

“Which means that Hope is probably dead, and he's taken Monica because she reminds him of her.”


	3. Chapter 3

By the next morning, Spencer had narrowed down the unsub’s comfort zone, not much more than 20 miles and JJ had eliminated all the local employees as suspects with Derek. Prentiss and Bishop had found at least 5 reported incidents that could be attributed to their unsub with Penelope’s help, the first case reported 6 months before Hope’s abduction. A 12-year-old girl in the area reported a man taking pictures of her on her way home from school, and 3 weeks after that, she thought he was peeping into her window. And then her house was burglarized, and the only thing that was missing was her clothes. Rossi was quick to note a clear escalation in M.O. before Emily reported something just as worrying. The unsub left a thank-you card on Heather Wilson’s bike, a girl that was reported playing with Hope before her abduction. Hotch was quick to send Emily and JJ to Heather’s new school to interview Heather and so the two agents stood in front of a bright yellow bus parked outside a wire gate, cornering a young blonde girl with pink streaks in her hair, dark lipstick painted over her lips and dark eyeshadow framing her black eyes.

“Heather? I'm Agent Jareau. This is Agent Prentiss. We're with the FBI,” JJ started as Heather shouldered her bag. “We have some questions about Hope Kingston. Do you remember her?”

“What do you think?” Heather scoffed.

“I know you've been through this before, but we need to talk to you about that day,” JJ said kindly, tucking away a flying strand of her hair.

“Heather, we have reason to believe that the same man who took Hope abducted her mother last night,” Emily explained.

“This can't be happening again,” Heather murmured, painful memories bursting like firecrackers in her mind.

“Did you and Hope play together often?” JJ asked.

“Every day. She was like a sister,” Heather admitted.

“You told the police that you saw a man watching you guys play that day,” Emily said, phrasing the statement like a question.

“Look, I've been through this a thousand times. I wish I could help you more, I really do, but I gotta get to class now.” Heather turned around, stopping only when Emily addressed her.

“You put streaks in your hair because it's a constant reminder of how much you two looked alike,” Emily blurted out.

“You don’t know anything about me,” Heather said, trying and failing to sound stern without looking back at the agents.

“I know that you struggle to let people in because you're afraid of losing them,” Emily continued, ignoring JJ’s stare. “And that you are constantly asking yourself why he took Hope instead of you.”

“Are you done?” Heather desperately wished her voice had more strength in it, but all that came out was pain. JJ shifted herself to face Heather.

“Listen, if there's something that you know, please tell us,” she pleaded and Heather felt Emily approach and hold her shoulder, giving her the strength to come clean.

“It wasn't the first time I had seen him,” Heather confessed, her eyes tinging pink as tears welled up behind her thick mascara. “It was a week earlier when Hope and I were at the park.”

“Did he say anything to you?”

“No,” she admitted firmly.

“Can you tell us about the day Hope was abducted?” Emily asked.

“Um... We were playing hide-and-go-seek in front of her house,” Heather said slowly as her nose tinged red. “I had just finished counting and I turned around, and there he was... Just standing there smiling at me.” Her hand rose to dab at her nose, careful not to smudge her makeup. “He was holding a jar of butterflies. He knew that would get my attention.” Emily and JJ were patient, listening to the story completely, showing no sign of recognition or surprise. “And that's when he asked if he could play. And I told him he could. I'll never forget that voice.” Heather’s voice broke as she finished her story, leaning into Emily’s touch.

“Why didn't you ever tell anyone?” JJ asked softly.

“Because it was my fault,” Heather confessed. “I'm the one who told him that he could play with us. I overheard my dad saying that someone put a butterfly necklace on my bike. Then he asked if I knew who had put it there. It was my chance to come clean...” she sobbed as Emily rubbed her arm. “But I just kept my mouth shut.”

* * *

Piper had run out of things to do. She’d run down each reported incident, gone through each statement, re-watched surveillance tape and come up with absolutely nothing. Spencer was occupying himself by building a takeout tower which Derek was determined to topple, hitting it with something from JJ’s desk. Piper hugged her knees to her chest, tapping on the desk with her pen as she stared over Spencer’s head to the conference room above. Penelope stood there, frozen, staring at a screen.

“I’m worried about her,” she finally voiced, making both Derek and Spencer turn to look at her, but she didn’t acknowledge either of them. “She was shaking in the briefing, her voice kept rising in pitch when she’d ask a question and she hasn’t spoken since we found the thank you card.”

“What have we said about profiling each other?” Derek asked her, leaning forward. Piper scoffed.

“I used to be a therapist, Derek. It’s in my blood.”

“So, talk to her, ask her about it,” Spencer said simply but Piper shook her head limply.

“She doesn’t need a therapist right now; she needs a Derek Morgan.” Derek narrowed her eyes at her.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Finally, Piper let her feet settle on the ground and returned Derek’s even gaze. “No, not this again.”

“What again?” Spencer asked.

“The entire baseball team can tell, Der. You can’t hide this forever,” Piper admonished him, keeping Spencer in the dark.

“Knows what?” Spencer tried again, receiving no acknowledgement from his girlfriend or his best friend.

“I can damn well try, Bishop.”

“Fat chance,” Piper retorted.

“You’re the one who pushed her to date him at all,” Derek protested.

“When have I ever given someone good advice?” Piper countered.

“Yesterday, when Emily asked how to dump someone,” Spencer answered helpfully.

“Last week, when I was struggling with my swing,” Derek added.

“Two weeks ago, when my ex-wife died,” Rossi contributed as he walked past with a cup of coffee. Piper looked like a fish out of water, opening and closing her mouth.

“Well, clearly, I made a mistake this time,” Piper managed to say. “Derek, just go and talk to her.” Grumbling, he pushed off his chair and Piper leaned back in hers, watching him take the steps up and into the conference room. Rossi offered Piper a fist bump which she returned, confusing Spencer all the more.

“Is anyone going to clue me in?” Spencer asked, pouting slightly in his seat.

“No,” Rossi said simply before leaving Piper with a smirk. Spencer’s mouth folded into a line while Piper moved to take a seat on his desk.

“Sorry, Spence. You’re an unpredictable variable,” Piper said, leaning down to press a light kiss to his nose. “Coffee?"

* * *

Derek walked in with his empty coffee mug, moving to refill it with the fresh pot in the conference room. He hated Piper. But more than that, he hated that she was right. Sighing, he abandoned the mug and the coffee and moved to his rightful place next to Penelope’s side. His hand came up instinctively to press against her shoulder and she reacted with the same instinct to lean against his chest. Her head fit perfectly into the crook of his neck, settling against his skin, unaware of how his nerves tingled or how his stomach flipped at the simple gesture. He let his right hand rub her arm therapeutically, barely needing to speak.

“After Em, I never thought I'd see another person I love up there,” she said quietly. Penelope was never quiet. She was loud and funny and bright and bubbly. Never quiet. Not even close.

“Baby, you gotta stop blaming yourself,” Derek said, the endearment coming to his lips easily. But he never thought the word would feel so sour, knowing that Penelope only ever took it as their ‘thing’. “We're doing everything we can to find her.”

“No, we're not,” Penelope retorted, wrenching herself away from Derek’s touch. “We're not doing enough to find her. If we were doing everything, we would have found her.” Tears welled up ing her big, beautiful brown eyes. “I'm not doing everything I can. Every minute that goes by, there's more chance that she's dead.”

“Okay, Garcia, stop it,” he said gently. “I need you to calm down.” A tear had slipped down Penelope’s cheek, slightly smudging her foundation.

“I am doing everything I can to keep it together and I'm so scared,” she whispered, as though speaking any louder might completely break her.

“Okay, I need you to listen to me right now,” Derek said, and she did. At least she would have if not for JJ interrupting from behind them.

“Guys,” she called out and Derek closed his eyes in surrender. “We’re ready to deliver the profile.” Half-heartedly he walked away from Penelope before turning in the doorway.

“Penelope,” he called out, the name tasting sweet on his tongue. “Let’s go find this guy.”


	4. Chapter 4

Spencer, Aaron and David stood in front of most of Manassas PD who had come into their bullpen. Police officers surrounded their desks and Piper had taken a perch on her desk in front of Anderson, just like Derek on Spencer’s. JJ stood behind her desk next to Emily, both of them paying attention as Derek started the briefing. “7 years ago, we believed our unsub to be a preferential child molester.”

“And now we think that his preference evolved into an erotomanic obsession with Hope Kingston,” Piper continued. “So much so that in her absence, his attentions are now focused on her mother. He has to surround himself by the memory of what he lost.”

“At the time Hope went missing, there was another potential victim, who was the same age and had the same physical characteristics as Hope, and she was even more accessible,” Emily reported. “Which tells us that Hope became his idealized target.”

“Despite the high risk, he abducted Monica in public, which shows she's pivotal to his fantasy,” Rossi continued.

“We believe the unsub has Monica captive within a 20-mile radius of this abduction site,” Spencer added, gesturing to his map with a pinkie finger.

“There's a strong possibility that until recently the unsub kept Hope alive,” JJ relayed, glancing around the room. “This explains why he didn't hunt again for all these years. And that it was Hope's death that triggered the change in his M.O.”

“Now, we sincerely doubt that the unsub intentionally killed Hope,” Piper announced. “It’s our impression that he’s seeking some sort of understanding or empathy from Monica Kingston for Hope’s passing.”

“If the same guy has her, how long is she really gonna last?” Grant asked Piper.

“I know her,” Penelope said, standing up. “I know Monica. Monica is my friend, and she is a fighter, and she is not gonna give up, so neither should we.” Piper smiled at her softly and she resumed her seat.

“He had multiple chances to hurt Monica, but he didn’t which leads us to believe the unsub needs something from Monica,” Piper finished. With the briefing over, Reid and Bishop left to get lunch for the team while Rossi went on a coffee run after being sick of the stale coffee. Aaron approached Derek who had taken Piper’s seat, knowing very well that she hated it, while JJ sank into her own seat by her desk.

“Something’s been bugging me,” Derek confessed. “Bishop said this guy waited 24 hours for a reason and I don’t think it’s out of convenience. He knew that she was more vulnerable and exposed the day after. How?”

“Well, if he stalked her in the parking lot after the meeting, he would have seen the pain written across her face,” JJ said, a pen in her hand as she spoke.

“What if he knew because he'd heard the story before?” Aaron proposed. “What if he's a member of her support group?” Both men turned to JJ immediately, neither of them wanting to poke Penelope too much.

“Fine,” JJ said, standing up. “But you both owe me drinks.”

“You got it,” Derek said, grinning ear to ear as JJ forlornly made her way up the steps and across the catwalk to join Penelope in the conference room. She watched Penelope’s face contort from passivity to outrage as she explained what they’d just figured out.

“JJ, the things we talk about in that group are beyond personal,” Penelope protested, her gaze fixed on JJ as she closed the blinds of the conference room, obscuring the rest of the bullpen, including the returning saviours bearing coffee and subs. Penelope held her glasses gingerly in one hand as she sank into a seat.

“We wouldn't have asked you to do this if we didn't think it was gonna help us find Monica,” JJ explained.

“I know, but to talk about what happens in there, it's a violation of all kinds of—of privacy.”

“I promise you,” JJ said, stretching out a hand to gesture as she spoke. “Nothing that doesn’t pertain to this case will ever leave this room.” With the blinds down, JJ took a seat in front of Penelope, her classy low heels settling firmly on the floor as her friend closed her eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

“She’s doing what?” Piper slid off her perch to her feet as the others dug into their lunch.

“We think the unsub may have stalked Monica’s group,” Derek said solemnly. “A cognitive interview of the support meeting might help us identify the guy.”

“Wh—You can’t do that!”

“Penelope gave us permission,” Derek tried placatingly as anger flared behind Piper’s eyes.

“Derek, those meetings are confidential for a reason,” she snapped, making Rossi physically back away from her with his cup of coffee. “And what about the group members? Did you get their permission?” Derek looked to Spencer helplessly, but he wasn’t about to help him. Traitor. He turned back to calm Piper down

“Bishop, we have to find this unsub before he kills Monica,” Derek tried again. “Privacy is a secondary consideration.”

“That’s rich coming from the man who wouldn’t let us help him when he was wrongfully arrested,” Piper said, not bothering to rein herself in as Derek’s face blanched. “What was it you said? You have the right to keep something to yourself,” Piper said, reciting his own words back at him. Derek looked over Piper’s shoulder at Rossi who was busying himself with his meatball sub.

“What do you want me to do?” Derek said, feeling forsaken by his so-called family. But a part of him agreed with Piper, even if her words did sting.

“Too late for that now,” Piper said darkly, wiping her hands before marching over to Hotch’s office.

“You’re both cowards, you know that?” Derek said, pointing to Rossi and Reid.

“If you’re not scared of righteously angry Piper, then you’re an idiot,” Rossi said calmly, taking a sip of his coffee.

* * *

“What the hell, Hotch?” Piper cried out, slamming the office door shut. Aaron looked up like a deer caught in headlights.

“I told Derek not to sit at your desk,” Aaron said immediately.

“He did what?” Piper asked before remembering why she was here. “That doesn’t matter. You’re putting Penelope in a cognitive interview? Seriously?” Aaron leaned on his elbows, unsure of why Piper was outraged.

“It’s nothing we haven’t done before,” Aaron said easily, testing the waters.

“Really? You’ve violated ethical codes and privacy protocols before?” Piper scoffed, her eyes a little too bright.

“We have to find Monica,” Aaron said slowly, aware of where Piper was coming from. “I know with your experience and background, this is a little jarring but it’s what needs to be done.” She snorted derisively.

“Right, because who cares about the ethical standards in therapy? And of course, you’d say that Hotch,” Piper said, her tongue turning to acid as her bitter words dug into Hotch. Not that you’d know by looking at him. He was silent, his face stormy as he studied her.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he prodded her, but she was running out of restraint quickly.

“Because you love to put up this cold, stony, silent sufferer facade, and you tell yourself that it’s because you’re the leader but really, you are so terrified of being weak and emotional and if you let the real person out for even a second, it will shatter you completely,” Piper spieled, her voice calm and cold as she stood in front of his desk. “I shouldn’t even be surprised by it. The means always justifies the end, right?”

“You aren’t my therapist,” Aaron said, just as calm as she was. “You’re my agent and my subordinate. Monica’s life hangs in the balance and yes, I’m willing to betray a few ethical codes to save her. Take a walk. Cool down. If your morals are obstructing your perspective, go home.” Piper’s jaw clenched so tightly.

“Yes, sir,” she spat bitterly, leaving his cabin with more fury than before. Aaron let out a deep breath, resuming his cool when JJ walked in.

“Everything okay?” JJ asked. “I saw Piper leave your cabin, she seemed kind of angry.”

“Apparently, Garcia’s interview infringes on her moral compass.” JJ winced.

“Yeah, I had a feeling it might do that. If it helps, I saw Spencer go after her,” JJ offered, and Aaron nodded slowly. JJ knew him well enough to know he’d already closed himself off. He’d have to straighten it out later. “Everyone’s gathered below. Our hunch was right.”

* * *

“Piper!” She closed her eyes, letting out a deep breath as she stopped, letting Spencer catch up to her outside the elevators. “What happened?” She sighed deeply, understanding Spencer’s confusion at the coat and bag in her hands.

“He told me to take a walk and if I’m not okay, he wants me to go home,” she said mournfully. “How am I supposed to be okay with this?”

“Look, you’re mad that we’re violating an ethical code, I get it,” he said, lacing his fingers in her hands. “But this unsub already did that. He violated Monica’s trust. He used the group to get close to her.”

“Spence, there’s a sanctity in group therapy.”

“I know. I’d be just as angry if someone violated my NA meetings. But we need to do whatever we can to save Monica.” Piper stared at her hands, still unconvinced as Spencer rubbed his thumb along the edge of her hand. “You think it’s unethical and you’re right and I love you for it. But these are extenuating circumstances. What if it was Penelope who was taken? Would you refuse to do a cognitive on the members of the group to save her?" Piper looked up, brow furrowed at the hypothetical question. “Nothing that isn’t relevant to this case is going to be revealed. Hotch isn’t the one who doesn’t recognise boundaries. The unsub is.” Piper chewed in her lip slowly, mulling his words over.

“I hate it when you’re right,” she surrendered, pulling her hands away only to wrap them around his waist. Spencer pulled her closer, pressing a soft kiss to her hair.

“No, you don’t.”

“You think Hotch is gonna be mad at me?” Her voice was muffled by Spencer’s shoulder, just like her view. But Spencer’s wasn’t. His soft, amber gaze glanced over Piper’s head to Aaron standing next to Emily and JJ in the bullpen. Aaron kept glancing over every few seconds, as though he were checking up on Piper.

“No,” Spencer said, smiling slowly. His lips brushed her forehead, then her nose and finally settled on her lips as she pulled away from his hug. “You ready for this?”

“Yeah, let’s find this bastard,” Piper affirmed, linking her pinkie into his and they marched back into the bullpen.

* * *

“So, William Rogers joined the support group 2 months ago,” JJ recapped for Piper and Spencer. “Garcia's still looking for an address.”

“Any priors?” Piper asked.

“Yeah. An attempted kidnapping of a 14-year-old, 7 years ago.” JJ passed her the file. “He lured her to a studio with promises of becoming a model. When she got there, he made sexual advances. She got away.”

“You know, rethinking the type of offender he was 7 years ago, it's possible the unsub didn't sexually assault Hope initially but waited until she was older,” Spencer proposed, settling on the corner of his desk.

“Explains why he waited so long,” Piper contributed flicking through the file. “In his fantasy, he might envision Hope at a more desirable age. What was his story for the support group?” she asked, sending Aaron an apologetic glance. He nodded subtly before answering.

“Well, he told them his pregnant wife committed suicide,” Aaron relayed from what JJ had told the team moments ago. “Apparently, they were trying to conceive for over a year.”

“Hope would have turned 14 last year,” Piper surmised, her hand running through her hair.

“Hope couldn't bear the thought of bringing his child into this world, so she took what little control she did have and ended her life,” Rossi finished.

“It was never a part of his plan,” Spencer concluded. “It turned his world upside down. He's not ready to let go of the bond he had with Hope. And now he's trying to get back what was taken from him.”

“Oh, God! That’s why he wants Monica,” Piper groaned, a disgusting revelation coming to her. “He wants her to give him a new Hope.” JJ’s face contorted as Derek sprinted into the room. “He didn't take Monica to remind him of Hope, he took her to recreate her.”

“We’ve got two locations, and boss,” Derek said, taking a pause for breath. “Garcia’s demanding to come with us.” Hotch nodded slowly.

“Garcia will come with us. Rossi, JJ, you’re with me. Derek, you take the others to the second location.” They divided into their usual teams, grabbing their guns and vests. Spencer watched, slightly mesmerised, as Piper wrapped her hair into a small ponytail and rolled up her white sleeves. The scars on her forearms had faded. You couldn’t see them if you didn’t know they were already there.

“I’ll be fine, we’ve done this a million times,” Piper said in the parking lot as she waited for Emily to join her.

“I didn’t say anything,” Spencer protested, but Piper just gave him a knowing smile as she pulled her rings off, placing each one into a small box she kept in the storage compartment under the seat, retrieving a pair of gloves instead.

“You didn’t have to,” Piper admonished him as she pulled on the black, fingerless gloves and the GPS watch.

“Bad things happen when we separate.”

“Bad things happen, period. We can’t stop living in fear of what we can’t control,” Piper said sagely, pulling the straps of her glove. “Jacket?” Spencer passed the leather jacket over, watching her shrug it on.

“I hate when you’re right.”

“No, you don’t,” Piper snickered, mimicking his retort from half an hour ago. “Jeez, where is this woman?”

“Just be careful,” Spencer reminded her, pulling on the waistband of her trousers. Despite being in the parking lot of the FBI Field Office, Piper locked her wrists around his waist.

“I promise. So long as you don’t take off that vest.”

“Which one?” Emily mocked, coming up from behind.

“Very funny, Em,” Spencer scoffed, pulling away from Piper, letting her swing her leg around.

“Hurry up, Em, we’re running behind.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of your girlfriend,” Emily snickered as Piper pulled her helmet on. Spencer watched her flex her grip on the handlebars. “And if she dies, I’ll get you a new one,” Emily said with a solemn gaze. Spencer would have said something right then if not for the roar of Piper’s engine coming to life and speeding forward and down the parking lot road. Sighing, Spencer raised a hand to the back of his neck before getting into his designated SUV.


	6. Chapter 6

Piper leant forward on her elbows, resting her head on her thumbs and closing her eyes. She was growing impatient. Derek joined her by the bike, making her look up at him while Emily and Spencer gathered around him. “They cleared the other location.”

“Finally,” Emily grumbled, clearly just as antsy as Piper.

“Reid and I are gonna take two officers, check the perimeter, see if we can find the point of entry.” Piper nodded quickly, clambering off the bike as one of the officers brought forth a pair of bolt cutters. With a satisfying clink, the bolt fell to pieces.

“Building rapport could take hours,” Spencer said rapidly. “I don’t know if Monica has that much time.”

“Garcia’s on the way down with JJ, she’s two minutes out,” Emily added helpfully. Piper watched with bated breath as Spencer and Derek forged through the gate to the large house, her stress levels starting to spike.

“Why does every unsub own a better place than I do?” Piper whispered, trying to calm down as she watched Spencer duck around a corner followed by an extra officer.

“Relax, he’s gonna be fine,” Emily said. No-one could say Emily didn’t know her best friend well.

“Yeah,” she breathed out as an SUV approached them with a small hum. JJ and Penelope tore out of the bike, joining Emily and Piper. “All right, so we need to treat this like a hostage situation,” Piper started, kicking into second gear, her intensive knowledge of psychopathy coming to her naturally. “We need you to be attentive and compassionate. Just tell him whatever he wants to hear.”

“Right. Empathise with him,” Penelope said, mostly to herself.

“He’s going through a very painful grieving process,” Piper said, trying to put her into the right mindset. She knew it was hard to empathise with these men. “You need to tap into the emotions you felt when he talked about his wife.”

“He always looked so sad,” Penelope said. “I can’t believe he—”

“I know, Pen. But he loved Hope and she’s gone. He’ll do anything to get her back. You need to remember that pain.”

“Pain. Grief. Empathy. Got it.”

“Dial whenever you’re ready,” Piper said. “You can do this.” Penelope took a deep breath in, then out, then pressed the call button.

 _“Hello, this is Bill. Please leave a message.”_ Piper bit her lip, but nodded to encourage Penelope.

“Bill, it’s Penelope from the support group. I know what you did. I’m here to help you through your loss,” Penelope said shakily. “Please tell me Monica’s okay,” she pleaded genuinely. “I need to hear her voice.”

_“Monica can't come to the phone right now.”_

“Tell him we need proof she’s alive or things could go south,” Piper whispered. JJ raised her eyebrows at Emily who just smiled.

“Bill, if the feds think Monica’s dead, they’re gonna burst in there and take you. Things could go very very wrong. Please, just let me hear her voice. Let me help you.” The phone went silent for a minute until a very weak, helpless voice filtered from the speaker.

“Hello?” Tears welled up in Penelope’s eyes at the sound of her friend’s voice. “She’s dead,” Monica sobbed, referring to the corpse of her daughter lying in a bed upstairs.

“There you go. She’s fine.” With that, Bill hung up and Penelope turned to the other women helplessly.

“You’re doing a great job,” JJ assured. “Try him again.” Penelope dialled the same number again, surprised when he picked up.

“Look, Penelope, I’m not much of a phone person. So, if you want to continue this conversation in private…the door is open.” True to his word, the four women saw the door swing open. Penelope abandoned the cell, making to forge forward through to the door when JJ stopped her.

“Woah, Penelope, no—”

“JJ, I have to,” she pleaded. JJ glanced at Emily and Piper. Piper only bent down to her ankle while Emily nodded.

“All right,” JJ said reluctantly.

“Here,” Piper said, passing JJ one of her switchblades. “Be careful in there, both of you.” JJ grasped it, clenching a fist around it. It was small enough to be concealed under her knuckles.

“Stay close to me,” JJ ordered, and Penelope nodded firmly. Together, the two blondes made their way around the house to the front door. Penelope kept close to JJ, barely an arm’s distance from her, waiting for confirmation from Derek.

“JJ, we’re in.”

“Alright, go,” JJ ordered Penelope and she made her way past the plants to the front door, her hands up in surrender as Bill pointed his pistol right at her, Monica held firmly in the crook of his elbow. Her shirt was tattered, and dried blood tainted the skin under her nose.

“Hey. Bill, you never meant to hurt Monica. Just like you never meant to hurt Hope,” Penelope started. Pain. Grief. Empathy.

“He murdered my baby,” Monica sobbed, trying to tug free limply.

“Shut the door!” Bill yelled and Penelope calmly swung the door, so it didn’t close completely.

“Bill... I—I know the pain you feel. I get you. I know. I heard you talk about it in group,” Penelope tried. Pain. Grief. Empathy.

“Why doesn't Monica understand that?” Bill said, lowering his gun as he asked exasperatedly.

“Bill, I just think she needs more time to understand it. Listen, Bill. I know all you ever wanted was just somebody to love,” Penelope tried again, keeping her voice attentive and compassionate. “You were trapped inside a cocoon just waiting for somebody to set you free.

“Hope made me feel...” Bill choked up. “For the first time in my life, I felt love.”

“She was my baby!” Monica yelled, her voice rough with pain, not believing the words from Penelope’s lips.

“You brought Monica here because you're heartbroken,” Penelope said, ignoring her. “And you're desperate to recreate what you lost with Hope.” Unbeknownst to Bill, the basement door opened silently, letting four federal agents filter into the house. Emily flanked Derek while Piper brought up the back from behind Spencer.

“I lost my child!” They heard Monica’s yell from outside. Emily shook her head silently as they methodically cleared each room, like procedure.

“Bill, you need to tell her. You can do this, okay?” Penelope affirmed. “You need to let her know why this is all happening. You need to tell her. You can do this.”

“Say something,” Monica barked at him. “Say something!”

“Our baby…” Bill murmured but Monica had already understood, turning into a sobbing mess.

“Oh, my God, my baby.”

“Hope was pregnant,” Bill confessed, his arm still tight as Monica keeled over, sobbing even though her voice was hoarse. Penelope felt relief wash over her instantly as Derek burst through the door, gun raised as he made his way to Penelope’s left side, fitting next to her like a glove. She barely registered the others file in, tossing orders at Bill, barely registered Monica lunging for the gun, barely registered Piper’s yell, barely registered the gunshot as she buried her face into Derek’s shoulder. She only registered his warmth, his rich musky scent filling her as Spencer yelled for a medic. Piper was quick to press a napkin to Bill’s abdomen, begging him to stay with her while Emily pressed silver handcuffs on Monica. JJ knelt by Piper’s side, feeling for a pulse. “Where’s my medic?” Piper yelled as JJ started chest compressions, desperately trying to save their murderer. After about a minute, they swapped over, Piper pumping into the man’s chest to get him breathing. “Come on, Bill. Stay with me.”

“I can see Hope,” Bill said with a smile.

“Hell no. You aren’t getting off that easy,” Piper grimaced, pushing harder. An FBI medic finally arrived, releasing JJ and Piper from their job. Piper let out a deep breath, leaning into Spencer’s warmth. She raised her bloody glove-covered hands.

“Good thing they’re black,” Spencer smirked, pressing a kiss to her hair.

“The one day I chose to wear white to work,” Piper scoffed, watching as the medics lifted Bill onto a gurney, starting to transport him. “I liked this shirt,” she pouted, noticing the blood-stained sleeves.

“All the more reason to go shopping. A little retail therapy never hurt after a bad case,” JJ announced, and Emily agreed, throwing Piper a towel to wipe her blood-stained hands.

“You wanna go home?” Spencer asked, finally alone in Bill Roger’s house as Piper wiped her hands clean.

“Desperately,” she agreed but her voice seemed distant, as though she were considering something.

“What are you thinking?”

“My lease is up in 6 months,” she admitted, still rubbing her hands. “I’m not particularly attached to the apartment, but…”

“What’s wrong?”

“I love your apartment, you know that, right? I mean, it’s always felt like home, it’s just—”

“Space,” Spencer realised slowly.

“I know I said I didn’t mind it, but if you haven’t noticed, I’ve got a lot of stuff.” Spencer’s face turned pensive and Piper bit her lip, almost wishing she hadn’t said anything.

“Okay.” Piper narrowed his eyes at her fairly tall boyfriend.

“Okay?” Spencer shrugged.

“So, we’ll get a new place,” he said easily, smiling broadly.

“Seriously?” Piper asked, slightly worried at the proposition.

“Yeah. I always thought the place was more me than us.” Piper sighed deeply, a knot unravelling from her shoulders.

“Okay.”


End file.
